


Something Good Can Work

by wartransmission



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Highschoolstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John isn’t new to the whole ‘sex’ thing. He’s not that innocent. Jeez! He didn’t know why people kept teasing him like he didn’t know anything. He’s watched porn, read porn (which was really weird considering most of the porn he’d read came from Rose)- but all in all, yeah. Not that innocent. Totally not innocent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Good Can Work

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's](http://jadedgalvanizer.tumblr.com/post/35392379609/fanfic-something-good-can-work) the tumblr version, along with the tiny fanart I made for the fic.

John isn’t new to the whole ‘sex’ thing. He’s not  _that_  innocent. Jeez! He didn’t know why people kept teasing him like he didn’t know anything. He’s watched porn,  _read_  porn (which was really weird considering most of the porn he’d read came from Rose)- but all in all, yeah. Not that innocent. Totally not innocent.

He could joke about sex if he had to. He could probably pull out a fantasy if he needed to get himself off. His fantasies  _may_  have a fixation on pale-skinned freckled blonds- but that didn’t mean anything. Really. Not like it was that weird, right? It happened to other people too. Probably. (He hoped.)

But when it came to talking about  _actual_  sex?                        

He felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t understand why, either. After the entire fuck ton of pornos he’d watched you’d think he was immune, but no. He just felt like a heavy weight settled in his stomach whenever someone he knew talked about it, about how it felt good, and he’d all-in-all feel uncomfortable. So much so that he’d have to excuse himself and go to the bathroom, and splash his face with a handful of cold water because wow, John, what kind of weirdo are you?

He just didn’t like it. Making sex out to be a joke, like it wasn’t something  _real_ , he could handle that. But the reality that it happened, his friends had experience, it’s a thing that people actually do; he just didn’t like it at all. He didn’t see the point in giving so much trust to someone when it didn’t even mean anything, when it was just a one time thing. He didn’t understand why he’d have to show so much, give so much, just to feel pleasure like that. It felt weird. It felt disgusting.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

Which pretty much summed the whole thing up when he was hanging out at Dave’s one day. It’s an average day, they’re both trying to piss each other off and failing, and he stepped into the room and there was a puppet on the floor right as he’s getting to Dave’s bed and suddenly he’s careening forward, being caught by lanky arms and-

oh, god.

He made to pull away, a pink color dusting his cheeks as he opened his mouth- which was a bad idea when he thought about it now, really. There’s something wet and rough sliding into his mouth and he’s pretty sure it’s Dave’s tongue. Dave’s tongue shouldn’t be in his mouth. It didn’t belong there.

“Mmph!” He tried and failed to complain again, his feet sliding back and he should be falling on his face by now but Dave’s arms are crushing him forward and he can’t move, can’t budge at all in Dave’s arms like this.

“Look who’s being aggressive today,” Dave says when he  _finally_ pulls away, and if he were a cat John is pretty sure he’d be purring by now. Which was weird. He’s not supposed to do that.

“Shut up and let me go, asswipe,” John hisses back, lips already wet with saliva (holyshitholyshitholyshit) as he licks at them.

“Uh, no way. You kissed me. You should take responsibility for this, John,” Dave insists, a smug grin on his face.

“What? Fuck no.  _You_  take responsibility. That was my first kiss, dickwad.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two of them stare at each other. John’s eyes widen at the realization that he’s just admitted something horribly embarrassing, while Dave’s smirk grows wider once he realizes that the brunet had  _not_  meant to say that.

“Well then, I’ll take full responsi-“

“No!” John yells this time, pushing himself away from Dave, before crawling onto the bed and pulling the sheets up from the floor to cover himself. He’s all tucked in, like a ball, and Dave is struggling not to laugh at how weird John is acting. “Leave me alone, okay!”

“Come on, John-“

“No!” He shrieks again, curling into himself tighter, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I just- that’s not cool, man!”

“It was just a kiss.”

John is silent at that. He’d be lying if he said that Dave was right. He felt sick just remembering it, the feeling of Dave’s lips on his, his tongue in his mouth- and oh god no  _stop thinking about it._  Ugh!

“John?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles in reply, hiding his face in his hands as he curls up under the sheets. The weight on his chest is heavy, and he knows it’s the humiliation that’s weighing him down. Even kisses are weird for him. Sure, on movies they could be sweet and all- but the fact that he could kiss someone? That his friends have kissed other people before? That his first kiss was stolen by his best friend?

He felt dizzy from all this thinking.

“Did it feel that bad?” Dave asks this time, and John feels his cheeks burn even hotter (if they could even do that).

“No,” he murmurs, the sound muffled under the sheets- but comprehensible. There was no way Dave was going to make him repeat himself.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Silence. John rubs at his face in frustration, trying not to cry because damn, this is too much for one day. He really didn’t like thinking about shit like this.

“Kissing is weird,” he says after a while. Dave is silent when he waits for a response, and he doesn’t know whether it should scare him or not.

“But I liked kissing you,” Dave says, and John laughs. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“We’re best bros, don’t be gross,” John retorts, still hidden by the sheets.

“We could be more,” he suggests. The laughter stops. “I’m very serious right here, Egbert.”

“But Terezi-“

”We broke up. She apparently liked Vantas better than me. It’s incomprehensible, why would she even think that?”

“Oh. I. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” John hears the rustling of the sheets and suddenly there’s warmth around him, arms encircling his body as Dave sort of hugs him. “We were better off as friends, anyway.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not answering my question, Egbert.”

“But,” he hesitates, buckteeth digging into his lower lip. “Why?”

“Why what? You’re not making much sense here.”

“Why would you…you know. Want to date me.”

“Because I like you, dumbass.”

“Wow, thanks.”

Dave snickers, and John can feel Dave's breathing through the sheets as he nuzzles his face into his (John's) ear. God, this is weird. “No problem, sweet cheeks. But in all honesty?” He presses closer, and John feels the warmth of Dave's skin seeping into the sheets and into his skin. “You’d make me really fucking happy if you said yes.”

“We’re best friends.”

“I’ve been in love with you for five years, Egbert.”

John is silent again. (Dave should remind himself to do this whenever John gets too cranky and chatty at him.)

“I’m not even joking.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because we kissed. You told me you liked it. I don’t think I can say no to an opportunity like this. Plus, you’re embarrassed and it’s adorable. You’re adorable. I want to kiss you again.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” John whines, messing up his hair as he tries to hide further in the sheets, which is useless considering how Dave is pretty much all over him at the moment.

“No way, babe.”

“ _Don’t_ call me babe.”

“Whatever you say, honeybuns-  _oof._ ”

John is pretty sure that’ll leave a bruise on Dave’s stomach. Hopefully it will.

“So? Is that a yes? It sounds like a yes. Why are you still hiding from me? C’mon, I’m not gonna bite. Much.”

“Shut up!” John yells again, voice muffled by the sheets as he attempts to curl in tighter on himself.

“Oh come  _on_ , John. You can’t be a tease forever.”

“I don’t like sex.”

“-what.”

“I don’t even like kissing!” John yelled louder this time, the embarrassment making his voice crack, which really only helped in making him more embarrassed. Good going, John.

“Okay. So. When you said that you didn’t not like me kissing you earlier…”

“I don’t know, okay! It was weird.”

“Good weird. Because you liked it.”

“Whatever.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“Look,” John began, peeking out until half of his face could be seen by the blond, although he still kept his blue eyes turned away. “I just- it makes me uncomfortable, alright? Kissing. And stuff.”

“I can make it feel good for you.”

John looks up at that, the disbelief written all over his face just as much as the embarrassment. “That’s- that’s not what I meant! Doing stuff like that in general just feels weird to me. It feels icky. And gross.”

Dave quirks an eyebrow at John, watching the brunet as he turns around until he’s lying on his back. “How old are you again?”

“Wow, shut up.”                                                                                              

“In all seriousness though,” Dave says, before reaching out to cup both of John's cheeks in his hands. John feels mildly awkward, mostly because this is the sort of thing that happens only when they’re playing gay chicken. And they’re not. He doesn’t know where to look. “I love you.”

“You should stop saying that,” John grumbles, blue eyes turned to the door as he stifles a pout. “I mean, how do you even  _know_  that you’re in love with me? Come on.”

“It’s been five years, Egbert. You still manage to rile up the butterflies in my stomach without even trying.”

“That’s fucking cheesy,” John groans, trying to hide his face in his hands- which is a useless attempt when Dave bats the hands away. “Ow!”

“Shut up. I love you, and you can’t complain about it. I don’t even  _know_  if it’s been five years or longer, and it really fucking sucks that you weren’t my first kiss too, but I felt scared because you always said that you were really fucking straight and I had no chance and it’s really freaking me out that you kinda kissed me back a while ago, you know?”

John hesitates before looking up, his breath catching once he notices how Dave has removed his shades and he’s looking right into red eyes. “I- okay.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

John makes a face in response. “But-“

“ _Please._ ”

He’s staring at Dave now, blue eyes wide as he processes the fact that Dave Strider has just said please. Okay, wow. That’s something.

“Fine. But don’t lick me.”

“Spoilsport.”

John rolls his eyes, before blinking in surprise once Dave dips his head down and kisses him. (No hesitation at all, huh?) He keeps his eyes opened for a while, watching Dave close his eyes, before he slowly brings his arms up, hesitating a bit, until he settles them around Dave’s neck. He closes his eyes eventually, just letting their lips press against each other, practically melding together as Dave tilts his head to the side.

He’s gasping for air once they’re done, which earns him a laugh from Dave. “What’s so funny?” He asks, an unamused expression on his face as he opens his eyes to look up at Dave, before swatting away the scarf getting in his face. Jeez, did Dave’s scarf have to be this long?

“You’re supposed to breathe while we’re kissing, you dork.”

“It’s not like I have much experience, asshole,” he grumbles, to which Dave leans in and places another kiss on his nose. “Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Shh, I just like kissing you.”

John glares weakly at him for that, until the expression fades away and turns into confusion once he notices the serious look on Dave’s face. “What?”

“I’m guessing you’re not so straight, then?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“So. You like me back?” Dave asks again, a hopeful tone in his voice, and John should say no just to be a prick- but it’s not often that Dave’s giving him a look like he holds all the answers in the world. It makes him feel important, for once. And wanted.

“I don’t know, you guess.”

“Yes. You like me back.”   

“Congratulations,” John deadpans, clapping his hands. “We have a winner.”

Dave grins at that.

Oh. That’s not something John usually sees on his face.

It’s a nice look on him.

“You look better when you smile.”

“I know.”

“You should smile more.”

“I do.”

He punches Dave playfully on the shoulder. “I mean with other people, dickhead.”

“Can’t. It’s a one-person offer. Only you can see me smiling.”

John tries to hide a smile at that, and fails miserably. “Dork.”

“You’re way dorkier than me, John.”

“You’re still a hipster.”

“It’s ironic.”

“Ha ha. Sure.”

“I love you.”

The heat returns to John’s cheeks. Damn it. “Mm,” he grumbles noncommittally, before letting out a small squeak as Dave leans in and kisses him again. “H-hey! That’s unfair!”

“I can wait,” Dave says. John stares at him in surprise at that. “Really. You don’t have to tell me that you love me back now. But, you know. If you ever realize that you feel the same way, you can always tell me.”

John hesitates, before nodding. “Okay.”

Dave smiles, and the warmth on John’s cheeks spreads to his entire body. It feels slightly discomfiting, and he feels like he wants to hide under his bed because he’s unused to all of this, but…Dave is in love with him.

It’s not like he can just disregard that.

(If he were really honest with himself, he’d admit that he already liked Dave back for a while now. But he’s not, so he won’t. Not yet, anyway.)

“And we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Dave adds, long fingers tangling through John’s black locks. “I’m fine with just being with you.”

“That’s surprisingly sweet of you, Strider,” John replies, buckteeth subtly chewing at his lower lip as he notices the hand in his hair. “But…thanks.” He smiles, and while Dave doesn’t say it, he knows that his heart may as well have grown twice its size by then because he was far too fucking happy with the things that are happening.

He cracks a smile back eventually, before pressing a kiss on the back of John’s hand just because he could. “Not a problem.”


End file.
